Moments
by Monchy
Summary: Because love is about the little things. Implied slash.


Hello everybody! Writing from Venezuela this time. Yes, I went to visit my parents and my flight got delayed for three hours, and it lasts nine hours already, so let's just say that I got to spend some quality time with my notebook. And here we are... this is pretty pointless, just kind of sweet (I hope).

Anyway, Merry Christmas to you all!

P.S.: in case you don't know, Curt Wild is Ewan McGregor's character on the movie Velvet Goldmine.

Love and hugs!

* * *

**Moments**

There are people who will never understand certain things. For example, despite Obi-Wan's insistence, Anakin will never understand why meditation is such an important thing, why master Yoda uses a cane when he definitely doesn't need it or why sex in public is uncivilized. Obi-Wan, on his side, will never understand why pod racing is so exciting or why flying should be something fun. But deep down, those were only facts, moments or hobbies. Mace Windu's problem tough, was far more important.

Mace Windu doesn't understand love so, once in a while, he asks Obi-Wan the same old question.

"Why do you love him so much?" Mace crosses his arms over his chest and looks forward, avoiding the bluish eyes that look at him. Obi-Wan takes one hand to his chin, half closes his eyes, caresses his beard and, finally, he shrugs.

"I don't know, I just do."

* * *

Anakin was sometimes scaredthat Obi-Wan was going to leave him. Obi-Wan was a mature, responsible and composed man, while Anakin was a too emotional and impulsive young man. One day, Obi-Wan would wake up, see him by his side and would realize that he was wasting his time with someone who didn't deserve him and then, Anakin would be alone, begging the silence for Obi-Wan to return. 

Obi-Wan knew something wasn't right the moment he opened the door and soft music reached his ears. He usually found Anakin on the couch, hugging himself and with his eyes on a book he wasn't reading. Obi-Wan didn't know if the state was produced by the same cause or by different ones, but every time he saw Anakin like that he could hear his own heart breaking.

Obi-Wan walked towards Anakin, forced him to look at him and took him between his arms. The night was spent in silence, long and dark and, next morning, everything went back to normal.

"Tell me about it, please," whispered Obi-Wan one of those days, wanting to do something. He felt Anakin hug him stronger, bury his face in his chest and curl as much as his height allowed him to.

"Don't ever leave me."

"Why would I do that?" Obi-Wan's voice was a whisper, a soft caress against Anakin's ears, who just shrugged. "I love you, Anakin."

Next morning, when Anakin woke up next to Obi-Wan, he stopped being afraid.

* * *

Anakin's musical tastes are terrible, at least in Obi-Wan's opinion. The only advantage Obi-Wan sees in the noise Anakin calls music is that it helps him read his mood. 

When Anakin is depressed he always listens to this B.B. King guy, specially a song called _Stand by me_ which is not so bad. When he is euphoric, he listens to one of his favorites: _Make me smile (come up and see me), _and he forces Obi-Wan to dance with him. When he plays Lou Reed, David Bowie or Bob Dylan, Obi-Wan knows that night they will make love slowly, while if the choice is Iggy Pop, they will end up having uncomfortable sex in some kind of uncivilized place like the wall, the kitchen table (for Force's shakes, they _eat_ there), the bathtub or the floor. Anakin's favorite, tough, is some guy named Curt Wild.

One day, Anakin told him that he liked Wild so much because he reminded him of Obi-Wan. He arched an eyebrow when Anakin showed him a picture of a man his age, with long, shiny blond hair, wearing silver leather pants and platform shoes, who held a microphone with black polished nails. Obi-Wan shook his head and told Anakin that sometimes he just didn't understand him: Curt Wild and Obi-Wan Kenobi had nothing in common and no, he was _not_ wearing leather pants. Anakin pouted.

* * *

Asajj Ventress had changed their lives forever. Obi-Wan hadn't been the same for such a long time after it. As much as he fought to return, his weakness showed in the worst moments, making the once invincible Obi-Wan Kenobi into a wounded man. 

Anakin had been prepared. The nightmares were the hardest part. Waking up in the middle of the night because of his master's screams, always strong, composed, perfect, had been a difficult change, but Anakin had been prepared to wake Obi-Wan up and hold him between his arms. How many times had Obi-Wan beenthe one holding him and scaring his fears away? Anakin needed to be there for him.

The passing out was predictable and Anakin had always been prepared to hold Obi-Wan's weak body with his. He had started following him around, even when Obi-Wan had screamed that he didn't need a babysitter. Anakin knew Obi-Wan didn't want to feel weak, but he also knew he couldn't risk making this situation a chronic one.

The blood, he hadn't been prepared for the blood. When the gasp left Obi-Wan's throat Anakin had run to him to find his figure laying on the floor, arching among pain spasms. And blood, everywhere, from opened wound, from crushed muscles, who knew? Anakin had called a healer, trying to be calm, just as Obi-Wan had been every time he had gotten himself injured.

Obi-Wan had started getting better, although there had been sequels. The only important one, though,had beenthat Anakin had promised himself that no one would ever touch one of his master's hairs again.

* * *

Obi-Wan used to spend a lot of time outside their quarters, usually when Anakin had a class or a seminary. A fourteen year old Anakin, as the teenager he was,had thought that his apparently virginal master had a lover. So, as the typical teenager he was, he had decided to follow him. 

The truth was his master didn't seem to be hiding too much, as a matter of fact, he was walking through the hallways as calmed as ever but still, Anakin was expecting to find the mysterious woman – or was it a man? – behind every corner. After going through a lot of halls, Anakin realized Obi-Wan's steps were taking them to the library. Ha, so it was the librarian!... ew. His master could get someone much better, he was attractive and she was… ew.

Nevertheless, Obi-Wan only noddedat the woman and walked to the back of the place… so it was some kind of sex in public thing?

But when Obi-Wan stopped, all Anakin could see were racks filled with books. _Real books. _With paper, ink and covers of different colors, all smelling of old leather.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, leaving his hiding place.

"Anakin?" Obi-wan turned on his heels, watching his young padawan look up to the bounded tomes.

"I didn't know there were real books in here," Obi-wan laughed softly, offering him the tome he was holding. Anakin took it between his hands, caressing the old material carefully. "So this is where you spend your time… and I here I thought you were having a torrid romance," Obi-wan laughed again, caressing Anakin's hair softly.

"I like reading padawan, and it's better to have a real book between your hands."

"Could I… cand I read one?" asked Anakin, hugging the one he had in his hands against his chest. Obi-wan arched an eyebrow.

"You want to read voluntarily? Without me threatening you?" Anakin grunted.

"These are novels, right? It's not like reading wookie history, master," Obi-Wan smiled, nodding.

"You can read whatever you want padawan. You'll find it's gratifying."

"Well… any recommendations?" Obi-Wan took one hand to his chin, thoughtful. What book could he offer his padawan that was entertaining and that wouldn't give him any ideas? Finally, he reached up and got a thin one.

"Lord of the flies, you'll like it."

"Thank you master," Obi-Wan caressed Anakin's hair again, and then he smiled.

* * *

"Never let your sense of morality stop you from doing the right thing." _The limits of the Foundation, _Isaac Asimov. 

"I don't understand it master; he's… contradicting himself, right?"

"He's telling us that our morals might be wrong, padawan. Politics, rules and laws might be misunderstood or might mislead us, might make us take unfair decisions, do you understand?"

"So… does that mean I can go to street pod racing even if it's forbidden? I think it's a good thing."

"Keep reading, padawan."

"_I give you forgiveness, _said Luis XV to Charolais, who had just killed a man for fun, _but I give it too to the man that will kill you," Stories and fables, _Marqués de Sade.

"I like this writer."

"Very old, reading him was forbidden in his time… I never really liked his style."

"I would have thought so. You're repressed, master."

"I wonder why I ever thought letting you read would be a good idea."

"Chaos is an order that hasn't been deciphered." _Book of the contraries._

"See, master? He–"

"That doesn't justify you leaving your clothes on the floor, Anakin."

"He really is a psycho. No doubt. The big problem is that he's a mate and all that. What can you do?" _Trainspotting_, Irvine Welsh.

"I love this guy."

"When did I let you read Irvine Welsh?"

"You didn't, but since you hid it I thought…"

"It would be interesting."

"I actually thought it would be an erotic novel."

"Padawan, you're a lost case."

"I love you too, master."

* * *

Pain. Anakin was only conscious of the pain coming from his chest, piercing and intense. It had been too sudden, too strong for such an unpredictable blow. A blow? No, a shot. 

He tried to force some sound out of his throat, but he was starting to loose his breath. He closed his eyes involuntarily and inhaled, just to feel the air leaving him too soon, sending him into an erratic coughing attack. Anakin felt hot liquid leave his mouth and tasted the metallic flavor of blood.

He would have liked being able to laugh, but an incomprehensible panic was starting to choke him with every short breath he took. He was already seeing it: padawan Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One, dead at sixteen. What a reputation he was going to get.

"Is he dead?" the voice sounded far away, a mere whisper among the noise that started to fill his head. Breath, he just needed to breath.

"No, take him to the water, let him drown," but he was already drowning.

Now he was being dragged. He screamed at his legs to fight agaist the arms that were holding them, but his body didn't answer, so he just resigned to his destiny. But Anakin didn't want to die.

Nonononononono.

Master, help me. But Anakin knew his master was in the other side of the ship, focused on his own mission.

Suddenly, he lost the only reference he had with the real world: the floor. Seconds later, he was in the water, cold, frozen water stabbing his skin. And he couldn't breath.

Master, please.

I don't want to die.

He tried to move again, a finger, a hand, an arm, something, but his body stayed static, drowning in the blackness while the cold contact with the susbtance burned the wound in his chest. If he could only scream, but there was no air left, there was nothing left but his lungs contracting with no result, filling with water.

Master, please. Master… Obi-Wan.

And then, blackness.

Obi-Wan had felt a scream in the Force, almost a desperate lament and, automatically, his thoughts had gone in one direction: Anakin. He wasn't very sure how he had gotten to him, he knew there had been shooting, droids, doors, but all he could remember was the vision on Anakin's body drowning heavily while crimson blood stained the water.

He had dived without a thought, forgetting that they were surrounded by enemies and that they had a mission to accomplish. Anakin's body had felt strangely light, although his perception had been numbed by anxiety and fear.

Hours later, Anakin was laying on a room above the ship, out of danger, while Luminara repeated Obi-Wan that she needed to check him before letting him go. Obi-Wan insisted on it being unnecessary, but Luminara ended up winning. She always did.

When he entered the room Anakin was awake, his half closed eyes looking at the only light in the room. His skin was as tanned as always but his lips were pale, a purplish tone even, and a weak hand caressed the bandage that covered his wound.

"I thought it was me who got in the near death experiences," Obi-Wan saw the beginnings of a smile curve Anakin's lips, but his eyes stayed in the yellow brightness of the phosphorescent.

Anakin only knew Obi-Wan had gotten closer when he felt the mattress sink a little at his side. He wanted to look at him, but he knew that if he did he would throw himself into his arms and cry. He had felt fear, no, panic and now he could only be embarrassed about his inutility in the situation, about his desperate cries for his master.

"Not strong enough for a bit of sarcasm?" Anakin stayed silent, fighting against himself. "Anakin…," Obi-Wan's hand was soft against his face, a perfect contrast to the freezing stab of the water on his skin. "Come here."

It took Anakin about two seconds to hold Obi-Wan as if he was a lifesaver. He started shaking, but Obi-Wan surrounded him completely as a cover capable of separating him from the rest of the world. He wasn't conscious of his own tears until he didn't feel the salty flavor against his lips, but he stopped caring now that Obi-Wan's arms were around him.

"You never hug me," he managed to whisper among his tears.

"You never almost die," it was true, as true as he had never felt such a paralyzing fear, as true as he hadn't expected his last thoughts to be for his mas– Obi-Wan, for Obi-Wan, as a person, as a man, as his only hope.

"Master?"

"Yes, Anakin?"

"Could you hug me more often?"

"Even without death getting in the way?"

"Yes."

"Yes, I think I can do that."

* * *

Anakin hated when Obi-Wan went on a mission without him. If he wasn't there, who was going to take care of him? Obi-Wan had a tendency of getting into trouble and Anakin needed to be there to be sure that he was alright. 

Every time they sent Obi-Wan to a mission alone, Anakin and he ended up screaming at each other. Anakin would say: "something will happen to you!", Obi-Wan would answer: "I've lived a lot of years without you watching my back!" Then they would go to separate rooms and spend hours alone until, eventually, Obi-Wan would go toAnakin, hug him and kiss his neck. Those nights they always made love, slow and soft, almost as if they were saying goodbye forever.

Obi-Wan didn't like it when Anakin went on solo missions either. Anakin was impulsive and most of the times he didn't stop to think about the consequences so Obi-Wan could do nothing but worry.

Obi-Wan, tough, didn't scream or try to convince Anakin to take him with him, but he did extend in long diatribes about impulsivity, responsibility, the Jedi way and anything he could think about, only to finish telling him to be careful and not to risk his life. Those nights, they slept hugging tightly while Anakin whispered in Obi-Wan's ear that he was going to be fine.

* * *

"Master." 

"Yes, Anakin?"

"Why is everyone looking at me as if they wanted to eat me?... This is not a cannibal population, is it?" Obi-Wan laughed softly, getting a confused look from his far too tall padawan.

"You didn't read the reports, did you?" Anakin made a soft pout, getting closer to Obi-Wan when a woman looked at him from head to toe. "In this culture every young man is considered eligible if they are not marked."

"Marked?"

"Yes, marked."

"As in a hickey?"

"If you want to call it that way…"

"I would have gotten one if I had known!"

"If you had read the reports…"

"Oh, hush," Obi-Wan laughed again when his padawan got even closer, looking everywhere, slightly paranoid. "We'll reach the palace soon, stop looking at people like that, you'll scare them."

"They don't look too scared."

"And here I though you lied to be looked at."

"Not as if I was a meal."

"I do believe, indeed, that you are."

"Master!" Anakin smiled, amused. "That's so lewd of you to say."

"Would the arm work?"

"What for?"

"The mark, I could do it myself."

"No, it doesn't work… that's disgusting Anakin," Obi-Wan shook his head. "Can't you hold a week?"

"A week with everybody thinking that I am… what was the word?"

"Eligible."

"Yes, that! It's uncomfortable and… you do it."

"What?" Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow, but Anakin walked towards him and showed him his neck.

"You do it."

"No."

"Why not?" Anakin got even closer, watching Obi-Wan's cheeks turn red. "Are you embarrassed?"

"It's… inappropriate," murmured Obi-Wan, trying to look away from Anakin's skin. If someone had told him two seconds ago that his padawan was going to be begging him for a hickey, he would have laughed.

"But we can't really investigate if there are people following me; we've pretended to be a couple hundreds of times!"

"It's not the same, padawan."

"Master… pretty please…," Obi-Wan sighed.

"If you tell this to anybody–"

"Oh yes, that's the first thing I'm going to do… yes, hi master Windu, ever told you about that time with my master and the hickey?" Obi-Wan laughed again, getting closer to Anakin's neck, breathing on it.

"You're so tall," he said before putting his lips on the soft skin.

This was new, too new. The truth was Anakin had never thought of Obi-Wan as a… er, sexual element, he was his master! Who would have thought he could do _that_ with his mouth?

* * *

Obi-Wan's eyes watched the small figure of his newly named padawan as the little one looked at the water falling from Coruscant's sky, amused. He bit his tongue when his hands looked unconsciously for a nonexistent braid, forcing himself to remember that he had gone from being a padawan to having one. Anakin Skywalker, nine years old and more powerful than any other living being in the Temple being trained by Obi-wan Kenobi, recently cut braid, not enough time without a master. Some team they were. 

"Master?" the title sounded strange coming from the childish voice, even more received by Obi-Wan's ears. Two days ago it had been a deep voice pronouncing the word padawan.

"Yes?" Obi-Wan forced a smiled while crouching to look at the child, incapable of calling him padawan, apprentice, something that would make him recognize the truth of the situation.

"Do you miss master Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan's heart skipped a beat while his eyes looked away from Anakin. He pressed his lips tight and searched for the best answer.

"There is no death, there is the Force."

"What does that mean?" Obi-Wan felt a tiny hand pulling his tunic, forcing him to look at him. Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile, he wasn't going to be an easy child, but he was certainly adorable.

"It's a part of the Jedi Code," explained Obi-Wan, taking the small hand between his. "Master Qui-Gon is now own with the Force, and we must not miss him because we know he is in a better place, some place we will go one day," Anakin nodded, even when his face showed confusion.

"Jedi Code?" asked the little one, taking one hand to his new braid just as Obi-Wan had done years ago. Obi-Wan smiled and caressed his padawan's hair, going down the braid that had been formed with part of his own hair, joining them. His padawan.

"I'll help you understand," Anakin nodded, smiling softly and, before Obi-Wan could react, the little body was between his arms, hugging his neck.

"Master."

"Padawan."

* * *

Obi-Wan was never going to leave this down. 

There he was, master Obi-Wan Kenobi, general of the Republic, member of the Jedi Council, thirty seven years of service, wearing a bright pink dress, panties and high heels, purple make up in his newly shaven face and a big red wig. Not to mention the fake breasts, of course. No one was going to believe that he was a woman, his arms were too muscled, his back to broad and his nails to short. Whay had he said yes to this?

Before he could answer himself, he heard a whistle coming from the door.

"How you doing, sexy?" Obi-Wan didn't even grunt, watching Anakin's figure from the mirror.

"Explain me again why do I have to be the woman."

"Because I'm taller," Anakin smiled widely, getting closer to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan swallowed involuntarily, watching Anakin's leather covered legs walk to him in a cat like manner. Anakin put his arms around his waist, kissed his ear. "You look so hot," Obi-Wan closed his eyes, relaxing against Anakin's chest an freeing some of his weight from his own feet.

"Anakin, I'm wearing a dress."

"Don't worry; I'll help you out of it later."

* * *

Obi-wan sometimes was scared of Anakin leaving him. Anakin was young and had all his life ahead while Obi-wan was nothing more than a man, if not old, that was not getting any younger, too strict, too responsible, too perfectionist. Obi-wan knew one day Anakin would get tired of him, his books and his lectures and would leave with somebody more interesting. 

Obi-wan felt weaker everyday, he was starting to think that he had nothing to offer, nothing to make Anakin stay around him. Anakin hated to see Obi-wan in one of his depressive states. It had taken him years to know exactly what Obi-Wan's depressive state was: fake smiles, tiredness and insecurity.

"Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" asked Anakin one day. "That's what I'm here for," Obi-wan shook his head, took off his glasses and, before he opened his mouth, Anakin interrupted him. "And don't tell me you're fine," Obi-wan sighed, falling on the back of the couch. There was so much to say, so much…

"Can I tell you what I'm afraid of?" Obi-Wan's hands found Anakin's on the table that separated them and Anakin looked at their entwined fingers for a few seconds. Fear? Obi-wan had no fear, he didn't… but apparently, he did. Anakin just nodded and Obi-wan sighed again, separating his hands from Anakin's. "It's just that… a few years ago everything was so different."

"Are you having a middle age crisis?" Obi-wan laughed softly.

"If that's what you want to call it," Obi-wan shrugged, smiling softly. "I have the feeling that I get myself in more dangerous situations with everyday that passes, that I'm becoming… clumsy. After Ventress, I–"

"Let's not go back there, please," Anakin sounded suddenly furious. He stood up slowly, walked towards Obi-wan. "We put that behind us."

"But it is there and… what if there's a day in which I can't get out of here, if I can't be what I've always been? What do I have left if–"

"That's not going to happen!" Anakin fisted his hands, his most classic gesture of fury. "There is no reason for you to think that and… besides, I…," Anakin sighed, opened his palms, sat next to Obi-wan on the sofa, cuddling against the strong arms of his former master. Obi-wan looked into Anakin's eyes, watched his young features, caressed them unconsciously with his hand. _What do I have left if you leave?_ "Besides…," continued Anakin. "You'll always have me."

Maybe, after all, Obi-wan was just being paranoid.

* * *

"There has to be a reason Obi-wan, there's always one," Mace Windu sounded defeated, tired, appalled even. He didn't like not understanding things. 

"I guess that… it's about the little moments."

There were things people never understood, but everyone had their doubts, and Obi-wan had promised Anakin that he would try to adapt to his flying methods. He sighed. Love was, indeed, uncrompehensible.


End file.
